Chanel No 5
by Adrianna-Rossetti
Summary: The only perfume Miranda wears is Chanel No. 5. Andy knows this fact rather well, because the one time she bought Miranda Joy Jean Patou perfume that she saved three month's pay for, she was rewarded by the sight of the white-haired woman giving it to Caroline...The lesson had been learned though. Don't get Miranda any perfume other than Chanel No. 5.
1. Chapter 1

**Inspired by Britney Spears' and Sia's performance of _Perfume_.**

The only perfume Miranda wears is Chanel No. 5. Andy knows this fact rather well, because the one time she bought Miranda Joy Jean Patou perfume that she saved three month's pay for, she was rewarded by the sight of the white-haired woman giving it to Caroline. Andy knew her lover wasn't the most thoughtful person, but it didn't take away the sting of seeing the $800 dollar 75 ml bottle given to a 13 year old who hasn't even worn it once. The lesson had been learned though. Don't get Miranda any perfume other than Chanel No. 5.

It is a scent the brunette commits to memory, associating the smell with power, sensuality, and ultimate femininity. Her girlfriend of the past two years definitely fits-if not defines-all of those qualities. Andy sits at the vanity Miranda had boughten for herself and stares at herself in the mirror, peering deeply in her dark brown eyes. Lately, Miranda has been coming home smelling different. The unmistakable waft of Dior mixed with Chanel No. 5. produces an entirely different scent that makes the young journalist's stomach churn. Andy's not stupid. She knows this day was coming sooner or later. Miranda is finally sick of her, and found another lover. Although her heart feels like it's being ripped out of her chest, Andy stares at herself with blank eyes. Blindly, she reaches out and her fingers curve around a familiar square-shaped bottle. She lifts it and sprays some on her neck, deeply inhaling the signature scent and immediately tears up. Feeling guilty for reasons she can't explain, she gently sets the perfume back down and slowly lowers her head down to the cool countertop. Tears flow freely out of her eyes. _I've lost her._

* * *

Andy comes to the decision to ignore the scent of Dior coming from Miranda. She's too in love with the older woman to let her go. A life without Miranda would hardly be worth living. So, Andy decides to stay, no matter how much her heart clenches when Miranda stumbles in late every night reeking of that damned Dior. She misses Chanel No. 5. On those long nights by herself, Andrea douses herself in her own Hermès perfume, courtesy of Miranda from their third date after the Editor remarked that she smelled like a teenage girl in Dolce and Gabbana. She sprays the sweet smell on her neck, the insides of her wrists, and even sprays it on her hairbrush to spread the perfume in her hair. One night, Caroline comes into the room and immediately wrinkles her nose.

"Geez," she fans the air in front of her face, "what are you doing? Trying to bathe in it?"

"Sorry Caroline," Andy sets the bottle to the side. "I guess I just got over-excited. I love this scent."

"Well Mom will be happy to hear that," Caroline shrugs. "I was just wondering if you would help me with my English paper."

"Of course," Andrea stands and follows the girl back to her room.

Andy still follows the same ritual starting at 10:00 at night to whenever Miranda gets home. Spray neck, spray insides of wrists, and spray hairbrush. Repeat. When Miranda gets home, they have sex, and Andrea makes sure to rub her body all over her lover's to mark the Editor in her scent. Miranda always ends up taking shower in the morning anyways, but Andy always pretends that her little 'plan' will work. Of course it doesn't, and Miranda comes home every night smelling like Dior. The comforting scent of Chanel No. 5. has been fading night by night, and soon, the scent is gone completely.

* * *

One night, when Miranda comes home at some ungodly hour, Andrea is waiting for her with a small smile.

"Hi," she says quietly and takes her lover's coat, hanging it up in the closet. As the coat rustles slightly, the scent of Dior fills her nostrils, and she slams a mask of indifference down on her face before turning back to face the Editor.

Miranda rubs her eyes and looks exhausted. "You didn't have to wait up."

"I wanted to," Andrea shrugs. "How was Runway?"

"Fine," Miranda moves to the kitchen and the brunette follows her.

Pouring herself a glass of white wine, she rubs her neck and tilts her snowy head back. Andrea silently stands behind her and starts massaging the tense muscles. That's when she sees it. A small bite-shaped mark right behind Miranda's right ear. Her stomach drops and her arms fall limply to their sides.

"Andrea?" Miranda asks and turns her head to look at her.

Andy looks at her with pure pain in her eyes, and gestures to the mark. "You forgot to cover that up."

Miranda slaps a hand over the bruise and her eyes widen. She opens her mouth to speak, but is cut off by Andrea.

"Save it. I don't want to hear anything." She's sick and tired of feeling unwanted and unloved. She feels like an idiot.

"Andrea-"

"I said, save it," Andy averts her stinging eyes. "I've known what was happening for a while now. I guess I should have done something more to prevent it. I was a stupid fool for thinking that it would work it out by itself."

"Andrea," Miranda reaches out to place her hands on Andrea's forearms, and flinches when the young woman pulls away before her palms even ghost the pale skin. "I'm sorry."

"Shut up," Andy looks at the woman who holds her heart in pure anger. "You're never sorry for anything."

"They were going to take away Runway again," Miranda sighs and rubs her eyes. "The stunt I pulled in Paris only bought me a year and a half. Jacqueline came back, and I needed to save my position again."

"So you slept with her," Andy's shaking from rage and slams her hand down on the table. Her heart throbs painfully and her stomach clenches as she visualizes her girlfriend and Jacqueline together. "Goddamn it Miranda. What the hell is wrong with you? You've stooped so low as to _fuck_ your way to the top?"

"I did what I had to in order to protect my job. I didn't have a choice," Miranda looks at her with cool eyes. "Runway is my life. My everything."

Andy's heart drops at those words. It is suddenly so painfully clear. She means nothing to Miranda-she is as insignificant as a clacker. "You told me everybody has a choice once," Andrea ignoring the hot tears of anger currently running down her face and steps towards Miranda, her voice getting softer and lower. "I guess I know what your choice is."

"No Andrea-" Again, Miranda reaches out to provide a physical connection, but Andy steps back with her cold mask firmly back in place.

"Don't ever touch me again," Andrea says, her voice icy and unfeeling.

She turns and walks stiffly out the door, the sound of breaking glass following her departure. When Andy walks out into the cool night, she inhales the fresh air deeply, allowing it to cleanse her nose of any remaining traces of perfume. She hates Chanel No. 5, Dior, and Hermès and vows never to smell or wear any of those scents again. A faint smile stretches across her lips, and she shoves her hands in her jean pockets as she finally walks away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much for all the reviews and PM's! I've decided to continue this fic with two possible endings-this chapter will be the angst-filled ending to the story, and the next will be the happy one. Up to you to decide which one to read. :) (Also thank you to guest reviewer who gave me ideas for this meeting! I used some of your ideas, but not all :)) Inspired by You Lost Me by Christina Aguilera. Thanks for reading.**

Andy doesn't mean to stop in the café-in fact, she is on her way to an important meeting until the rain begins to fall. She covers her head fruitlessly with one hand as she hurries to open the door, barely making it in before it begins to really pour. Shivering slightly, Andy glances back out the window and smiles when she sees the rain falling heavier. She loves the rain.

"Bonjour Mademoiselle," the man behind the counter smiles at her, and Andrea grins back.

Unbuttoning her black dress coat, she smooths down her red Prada mini underneath and responds, "Bonjour." Her heels click on the hard floor as she walks over to inspect the menu closer. It's all in French, but Andy is fluent, and she rattles off what she wants with perfect enunciation. She pays for the croissant and coffee when she hears the door jingle open. Glancing over, the brunette almost dropped her breakfast at the sight of Miranda Priestly standing in the doorway looking just as shocked as Andy feels. For a moment they just look at each other, almost hungrily, drinking in the other's appearance. It's Andy who recovers first.

"Hello Miranda," she manages to get out, gripping her coffee tightly in one hand and the plate with the croissant in the other.

"Andrea," the older woman nods, still appearing shell-shocked. Andrea's heart throbs painfully when she hears her name being spoken in those soft tones again.

"On second thought," Andrea turns back to the man behind the counter and speaks lowly in French, "I will take my breakfast to go."

"Wait," Miranda says quietly, understanding every word.

Andrea looks at her with a raised eyebrow.

"There's no reason to leave," Miranda opens her Gucci bag and pulls out her wallet. She orders a scalding hot coffee and turns back to Andrea. "Surely you can stay?"

Andrea's heart says no, but her traitorous voice agrees to a civil breakfast. The two women sit at a table by an open window. They're the only ones in the café, save for the man behind the counter, and an awkward silence descends over them. Soft French classical music is playing from the speakers, and Andrea nibbles at her croissant while Miranda sips her coffee.

"Debussy has always been one of my favorites," Miranda comments out of the blue, referring to the music.

"Yeah," Andrea swallows the bite she was chewing before continuing. "Mine too. Clair de Lune is beautiful. When I was 17, I learned how to play it on the piano."

"Ah," Miranda nods and sips her coffee again. "So," she says after another few moments pass, "why are you in Paris Andrea?"

"Work. I'm writing an exposé on something," Andy shrugs, not wanting to offer up any more. "I assume you're here for Paris Fashion Week?"

"Yes," Miranda responds and looks in her cup of coffee as if it held something of great importance.

"Still with Runway then," Andrea comments.

Miranda doesn't respond. Andy studies her for a moment, and then shakes her head, scoffing slightly. Miranda snaps her head up.

"What?" she says.

"You're unbelievable..." the brunette trails off and shakes her head, looking out the window at the rain falling. "Nevermind."

"Andrea, I-"

"We've already discussed this," Andy holds up her hand. "It's in the past."

"I'm sorry Andrea," Miranda says quietly, and she looks Andy in the eyes. Her heart aches when she sees the pain in the chocolate brown eyes she loves so much. "I'm so sorry."

"Sorry doesn't make it better," Andrea sighs and looks down in her coffee mug. "You just couldn't keep your hands to yourself." She pauses and looks back up at the woman sitting across from her. "You've lost me Miranda. Let's just leave it at that."

Miranda's grip tightens on her coffee and her lips purse, but she says nothing else.

"How are Caroline and Cassidy?" Andrea asks.

"Fine," Miranda manages to say. "Caroline is going to college in New York while Cassidy is going to study abroad in Italy."

"That's great," Andrea tucks a long piece of brown hair behind her ear and studies Miranda. She doesn't look like she's aged a day since Andy has last seen her. She looks the same as she did five years ago. There are some wrinkles that have appeared on her face, but they don't detract from the Editor's beauty.

"What?" Miranda pins her with ice-blue eyes.

"Nothing," Andrea smiles slightly. "You look beautiful."

"You do as well," Miranda's eyes roam quickly over her body and she unconsciously gives a tiny nod.

"Thank you," Andrea takes another sip of her coffee.

They sit in silence again, but neither woman really minding. The coffee is running out though, so Andy gets up and orders more. Miranda watches her and feels her heart ache when she realizes what she gave up. Schooling her features before the brunette returns, she pushes down her feelings and hands out her hand for Andrea to put the coffee into. When their fingers don't brush, Miranda tries not to let her disappointment show. She has an overwhelming urge to touch the brunette again, but Andy had made it clear that she never wanted the Editor's touch again. Swallowing a scalding sip of coffee, Miranda almost spits it back out again when she sees the ring on Andrea's fourth finger. Her eyes narrow and she ignores the vicious stab in her heart. Being an Editor of a prestigious fashion magazine, her job requires a sharp eye for detail, no matter how minuscule it is. Apparently that skill fails her when she's in the presence of Andrea after such a long time.

"What is that?" Miranda says in an icy voice and waves her hand in the general direction of the ring.

Andrea blinks and looks down at her hand as if seeing it for the first time. Then her whole expression transforms. A soft smile graces her face as she looks at the simple yet beautiful band. "I'm married Miranda."

Those three words almost shatter the normally composed Editor. "Married?" she repeats dumbly.

"Yes," Andrea says gently, as if she's afraid of spooking Miranda. "To a wonderful man. His name is Max Harrison."

"Max Harrison." She repeats again and feels faint-she needs to get out of there. Abruptly, Miranda stands up and Andrea follows suit, looking alarmed. "Hey, are you ok?"

Miranda ignores her and strides out of the café, not even caring that the rain just ruined her Gucci purse and Jimmy Choo pumps. Rain plasters to her face, mixing with the tears streaming down her face and she blindly stumbles away. _Away. Away, away, away. From Andrea. And Max._ She crashes into a soft body, and is about to deliver a scathing remark before the person gripping her forearms shouts at her.

"Miranda!"

She looks up and finds herself looking straight into Andrea's eyes. Remembering Andrea's final words to her, she yanks herself back and tries to put distance between them. Andrea has apparently forgotten that she never wanted to touch the older woman again, because she steps closer, placing her hands gently on Miranda's forearms again. The Editor tries to get a grip on her emotions. It normally isn't like her to react so deeply, letting her tears show for the world to see. But Andrea is different. Andrea was-_is_ _everything._ Andy wasn't the fool in the situation. _She_ was. Miranda lets out a choked sob and tries to calm herself. The rain falls on her hard, and she's grateful for it. Maybe Andrea won't notice that much of the wetness on Miranda's face are her own tears.

"Miranda," Andrea says quietly and gently runs her hands up and down the older woman's arms. She doesn't know what to say, so she just steps even closer and embraces the other woman. To anybody walking by, it would look like a lover's hug. Miranda understands the difference though. This hug is to comfort-nothing else. When Andrea loved her, she would embrace her fully and press delicate kisses to the side of her neck and face. How could she have given up Andrea? The woman who gave love so freely and cared so deeply? Miranda allows herself to have a few moments of weakness in Andrea's arms before pulling away and wiping angrily at her tears. The rain is falling gentler now, and Miranda lets out a big, shuddering sigh.

"Are you ok?" Andrea looks at her with compassion in her eyes.

"No, but I will be," Miranda wipes her eyes again, cursing her weakness.

"Okay," Andrea looks at her for a moment, and then nods.

"Okay," Miranda echoes, and strangely, her heart feels lighter after crying. She had screwed up majorly, and there was nothing she could do to change it, but at least she now knows that there is some hope for her and Andrea to reconnect. The brunette doesn't hate her. There is still hope for their relationship, even if it's purely platonic.

A shrilling ring cuts the silent air, and both women jump before Andrea reaches into her coat pocket and pulls out her phone. Flipping it open, she says, "Yeah?….I got caught up in the rain-I'll be there shortly….Yes….Ok. I'll see you soon. Thanks." She looks at Miranda and smiles ruefully. "I apologize Miranda, but I am needed at my meeting now."

"Fine," Miranda says, because really, what else can she say? She can't force the brunette to spend time with her. She turns away, but is stopped by a gentle pressure on her arm.

"Hey," Andrea turns Miranda back to face herself and gives her a real smile that comes from the heart. "It was good to see you Miranda."

"It was good to see you too Andrea," Miranda gazes into doe-like eyes and smiles back.

Andrea moves in closer, and Miranda's breath hitches. A familiar set of plump lips brushes against her cheek, making the older woman's lashes flutter briefly before the moment is over. Andrea cups Miranda's face and gives her another small smile.

"Au revoir Miranda," she says quietly before turning and walking away.

Miranda lets herself smile. "Until we meet again Andrea," she murmurs.

She watches the tall brunette walk away before she turns away herself. Before she continues on her journey though, she reaches into her bag and pulls out a small bottle of perfume and sprays it on herself. Inhaling the beautiful scent, Miranda is filled with hope. Shaking her head when she remembers she once gave this perfume to Caroline, she places it back in her purse almost reverently, and starts walking in the opposite direction, the sun shining on her silver-white hair.

**Thanks for reading. If you wanted a happy ending-don't worry. I'll post the chapter sometime next week. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you guys! Here is the happy ending to the story. (In case of confusion- this installment is a happy ending to the first chapter's ending, _not _chapter 2.) Inspired by Blank Page by Sia :) Max Harrison is Lauren Weisberger's!**

_What the hell._ Andy thinks as she looks at the outrageous bouquet of flowers on her work desk. Some of her co-workers had already flocked around her desk, making no attempt to hide their interest at the display. _I swear...if it's Miranda..._ Andrea pushes back the intense hurt in her chest and shrugs off her laptop bag from her shoulder, letting it fall on her desk chair.

"Alright," Andy says, waving her arms as if she were waving away a fly. "Shoo."

There are some grumbles, but most of her colleagues can tell by her red eyes and darkened face that Andy Sachs is in no mood to be trifled with today. Once people are out of her space, the brunette inspects the bouquet closer and shifts the flowers around to find a small white card. On it, written in elegant script, are the words: _I'm sorry. M._ It takes a good five minutes for Andy to get her anger under control before she calmly stands up, picks the large glass vase up, and walks out the back door. Her co-workers hear a loud crash followed by the sound of glass shattering, muffled shouting and swearing, and then Andy returns in the same condition she left in, albeit her flushed face. She walks back to her desk ignoring the curious looks, pulls out her laptop, and plugs it into the charger. She then sits down and pulls out her iPod. Shoving the earbuds deep into her ears, Andy hits 'play', and starts working.

* * *

It's late by the time Andrea finishes her article on school budgets, but at least she's done. She has turned a boring topic into an intriguing one, complete with thorough interviews, interesting stories, and incorporated some of her own personal struggles and issues with the system into the piece. Scrubbing her hand over her face, Andy sighs and sends the finished product to the copy editors. She reclines in her chair and notices that she's the only one left in the office. A tear slips down her face before she can help it, and her hand unconsciously goes to clutch her broken chest. It hurts so much, Andy can barely breathe now that she's alone. Miranda didn't choose her. Miranda chose Runway. She chose to sink so low that she cheated on Andy with none other than Jacqueline, her arch-nemesis. The journalist lets out a sound that's a cross between a howl and a sob and lowers her head to the desk. _I am nothing to her._ She allows herself to indulge in a small cry-fest before straightening up and wiping her tears away furiously. It's been a week since she caught her girlfriend_, _and although the pain's still as sharp and intense as ever, Andy has been trying her hardest to move on. Obviously she's not doing a good job of it so far. Letting out a shuddering breath, Andrea slides her laptop into its case, and slings the bag over her shoulder. She pauses to turn out the light before she exits the building, and takes special care in locking up the building. There was a break-in a couple months ago, and ever since, the whole workplace has doubled their efforts to keep the place safe. Andy told Miranda about it one night after they had sex, but doubted that her lover had even heard her judging by the soft snores that had come from the older woman.

Sighing, she turns away from her work place and yelps as her heel gets caught in the sliver of space between the cracks of the pavement. Flailing helplessly, Andrea lets out another pathetic cry as she starts feeling herself falling backwards. Closing her eyes, she waits for the inevitable pain of the hard cement, and is surprised when she meets strong arms instead.

"You alright?"

Andy blinks and looks up into the greenest eyes she had ever seen. They were beautiful. "Um, yeah. Thanks," she coughs and pushes against the strangers arms to stand on her own. She still has her wits about her-she is a young woman alone in New York at night. This handsome stranger may turn out to be a killer or worse. Straightening herself up, Andy's breath is stolen when she looks at the man fully. He's about 6'1, about 5 inches taller than herself, and has a nice masculine figure. Shaking her head a little, she forces herself to take a step away from him.

"Thank you," she says and turns to leave, intent on running away before he could try anything.

"Hey, wait!" the man has a deep, friendly voice, and despite the rational voice inside her head telling her to get the hell out of there, Andy stops and faces him again. "Max Harrison," he holds his hand out with a sparkling smile.

"Harrison? As in, Harrison Media Holdings?" Andy squeaks.

"Guilty," Max chuckles and a blond lock of hair falls into his eyes.

Andy lets out a big breath. Max is like the male version of Miranda-successful, handsome, and wealthy. She offers a polite smile and says, "It was nice to meet you. Thank you for catching me, but I really must be going now."

"Let me walk you home," Max's green eyes sparkle. "It's not safe for such a beautiful young woman to be out roaming the streets in the dark."

Andy thinks for a bit, and then hesitantly nods her acquiesce. This man is the owner of a multi-billion dollar company...surely he won't try anything? Her fingers close around the pepper spray in her bag, and she grips it tightly as she falls into step next to the mogul. They walk in silence for a while, and Andy tries her damnedest to not inhale the delicious scent of Ralph Lauren cologne emanating from the man next to her. It's been a long time since she has smelled anything but perfume, and the masculine scent soothes her.

"So, do you work there?" Max breaks the silence.

"Yes, I'm a journalist," Andy responds and shifts her laptop bag higher on her shoulder. "Just finished writing a piece about the school budgets, actually."

"Really? You know, my mother donates a lot of money into the New York school system. I'd like to know, does it actually help?"

"Well..."

Andy relaxes as they continue chatting about her article. She finds Max to incredibly charming and easy to talk to. Her grip on the pepper spray lessens as she calms, and she manages a small laugh at one of his jokes. All too soon, they stop in front of her apartment building, and Andy turns to look up at him. Catching her breath when she sees his face in the moonlight, she offers a smile and her fingers nervously play with the strap on her laptop bag.

"You still haven't told me your name," Max boldly reaches out and brushes a brown lock of hair away from her face, his finger gently tracing its length down her cheek.

Andy's heart almost breaks again at the soft contact. Her eyes well up and she sniffs pathetically before looking away.

"I'm sorry," Max panics and snatches his hand away.

"Don't be," Andrea reaches up and wipes away the tears. "I just got out of a complicated relationship. Your touch reminded me of how she-" She breaks off, her face flushed.

"She?" his forehead wrinkles.

Andy doesn't say anything.

"Well I'm sorry it didn't work out," Max says sympathetically.

Andrea gives him a half-smile. "Thanks," she whispers.

"Good night," he tilts his head in her direction and then shoves his hands in his pockets before walking away.

Andrea watches him go before she drags herself upstairs and collapses on her bed, dissolving into tears.

* * *

The call comes unexpectedly the next day when she's at work. Andy doesn't even look at the caller ID before she picks it up.

"Andy Sachs," she says, shuffling some papers around on her desk.

"Ah, finally I have a name for the mystery woman," Max's voice carries through the small receiver, and Andy can't deny the small flutter in her chest.

"Hello Max," Andrea shifts the phone to the other ear, propping it up with her elbow as she staples papers together. "Thank you again for being such a gentleman last night and escorting me home."

"What can I say? My mother raised me right," Max chuckles. "Speaking of, she loved your article."

"She read it?" Andrea's mouth drops slightly. One of the most powerful women in the world had read _her _article.

"She loved it!" he exclaimed. "She says to tell you 'thank you'. She's glad to know what exactly some of the schools are doing with her charitable donations."

"I'm glad," Andy swivels her chair around.

"I was wondering..." Max clears his throat. "Would you care to go to a yacht party with me? We can go as friends, since I know that you don't, er, like men."

"I'm bisexual," Andy says bluntly and hides her smile at the embarrassed sound Max makes.

"My apologies Andy," he clears his throat. "Anyways, would you care to join me?"

"I would love to," Andrea says with a smile on her face.

He tells her the details, tells her not to worry what she wears, and then hangs up. Andrea can't help the smile that stretches across her lips after she ends their conversation. She needs to get over Miranda, and perhaps this party will do just the trick.

* * *

Andy and Max have gone on a couple dates before the big party-nothing too superfluous, but it's enough to help them move to the kissing stage so when they attend the event, they won't be awkward around each other. Andrea hums to herself as she picks out a deep purple Dolce and Gabbana frock that falls just knee-length. After slipping it over her head, she adjusts it so it fits her size 4 frame perfectly and slides into 4-inch Jimmy Choos. She takes special care with her makeup, not wanting it to look too heavy nor too light. Some bracelets adorn her slender wrists, and one last brush of her long hair completes the ensemble. Andrea tries to ignore the lingering sadness in her dark eyes as she takes one last look in the mirror, and forces herself to perk up. She's dating the most eligible bachelor in New York. A handsome, sweet, intelligent multibillionaire. What's not to like? Andrea forces all thoughts of _her _out of her mind and sweeps out of her apartment with her clutch gripped tightly in her hand.

Max is waiting at the curb for her with a white rose in his hand, and offers it to her with a charming smile. Andy accepts it and turns her cheek so he can give her a sweet kiss. They climb into the limo, and settle back with a small sigh. Their fingers intertwine, and Andy stares at Max, trying to commit his look in her mind. She's trying to replace the images that haunt her dreams: the silver forelock of hair that falls into crystal blue eyes, the somehow perfectly imperfect nose, and the small oval-shaped mouth. Instead, she concentrates on Max's bright green eyes, his blond hair that's neatly combed, and the thin lips that fit not-so perfectly against her own. Max smiles at her, and despite herself, Andy feels weak at the knees. He has a _killer_ smile.

"You alright Andrea?" he husks.

"Yes, I'm fine," Andrea gives him what she hopes is a convincing smile and squeezes his hand tightly.

"Good," he lifts her hand up to his lips and presses a kiss to the back. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you," Andrea smiles, and ignores the fact that her stomach doesn't flutter when he says those words.

They drive to the party in silence, neither of them really minding. It's not tense, just quiet. When they arrive, paparazzi bombards them, and Max-ever the gentleman-protects Andy as best as he can as they exit the car. He wraps his arm around her waist and shields the bright lights with his arm held out in front of the both of them.

"I didn't think it was going to be this bad," he murmurs in Andy's ear. "Usually we only allow the more refined press to come to our events. I don't understand why there's this circus here."

She leans into his solid build and allows him to guide her onto the yacht. Once they're aboard, the paparazzi can't follow them, and the flashes get less intense. Andy smiles weakly to Max, and he presses a kiss to her forehead.

"Alright there?"

"Yes," Andrea tilts her head up so he can press his lips against her own for a brief kiss.

"I'll go get us some drinks," Max squeezes her arm gently. "I'll be right back."

Andrea is left standing somewhat awkwardly by herself. Shrugging slightly, she walks around to the back of the boat where no photographers can snap photos of her, and leans against the guard railing. Staring down at the clear water, she closes her eyes and listens to the gentle lapping of the water against the yacht. A gentle breeze caresses her hair and she smiles. Inhaling deeply, she smells the crisp air, and the salty ocean, and the scent of Joy Jean Patou-Andy snaps her eyes open. There's no mistaking the fragrance.

"I thought you gave that to Caroline," she says, proud of herself when her voice comes out to be as strong as ever.

"Recent events have caused me to reconsider some of my decisions." The smooth voice that had invaded in on so many of Andy's nightmares and dreams cut through the air.

Sudden tears spring into Andy's eyes and she bows her head slightly to hide her face. The beautiful sound pierces deeply into Andrea's soul, sinking into her skin and curling itself around her heart. It hurts so badly, but there is also a small sliver of happiness in hearing the voice again after so long. Her eyes burn and the ocean blurs as she stares down at the water below. She doesn't know what to say.

"An-"

"Here we go Andy!"

Never in her life had Andrea been so relieved for an interruption. Andy was sure that _she_ was going to say her name, and if '_Andrèa'_ slipped from those oval lips, Andy was sure she was going to pitch herself off the yacht in despair. She turns, careful not to look at anybody but Max. He rushes to her side and hands her a glass filled with something red. Perfect. She tries not to greedily inhale the drink, but she finishes the drink in three swallows. It burns as it slides down her throat, but a moment later, it gives her the courage she needs to face _her._ Andrea's eyes flicker to the side, and there she is in all her perfect glory. Miranda Priestly is certainly a sight for sore eyes. Her posture is immaculate, her hair is perfectly coiffed and her makeup highlighting her natural beauty. Andrea feels a part of her heart (or at least, what's left of it) break off as she stares at the woman. There is a tightness around her eyes, and irrationally, Andy wishes she could take it away. She squeezes her eyes shut and mentally berates herself. Pathetic.

"Miranda Priestly," Max's tone is surprised. "I didn't know you were going to be attending this party."

"I sent my RSVP quite late," Miranda's tone is smooth, and Andrea's heart thumps. "I just decided I was going."

"Ah, well it's lovely to see you and I'm glad that you decided to come," Max holds out his hand. Miranda takes it quickly and gives a small but firm handshake before dropping her hand away. Max wraps his arms around Andy's waist and beams at Miranda. "Meet my new girlfriend, Andrea Sachs."

Blue eyes narrow, and Andy feels like sinking through the boat and into the sea. "Um, hi Miranda," she squeaks. Clearing her throat, she says more firmly, "Max, I worked for Miranda a while ago." Nothing about the relationship they had. Nothing about Miranda's infidelity. Andrea straightens her back and stares Miranda in the eyes.

Miranda seems taken aback. She doesn't respond to what Andy said-instead, she looks into brown eyes and almost hungrily devours the sight. Andy notices how Miranda's eyes flicker back and forth, and how they peer deeply into her own. The mask drops, and Andrea is hit with a gaze full of longing, sadness, and...love. But just as soon as the mask dropped, it was placed firmly back up, leaving a cool look behind. Miranda inclines her head slightly towards them, and then says, "It was a pleasure. Excuse me." She leaves quickly, before Andy can say anything else.

"Not the most friendly woman around," Max mutters.

Andy ignores him, her mind and heart racing a mile a minute. Why was Miranda there? What did that gaze mean? Why and where did Miranda disappear so quickly to? The brunette turns to Max and lets out a deep breath, for she knows that this cannot last between them.

"Max, I-"

"Max!" An elderly man comes sauntering up towards them, his hand outstretched.

"Mr. Greenberg!" Max clasps his hand tightly and gives him a bright smile. "May I introduce my new girlfriend, Andrea Sachs."

Andy fakes a smile and shakes his hand politely. She inserts a few witty comments here and there in the conversation that takes place between the two men, but her mind is focused on the white-haired Editor. She hasn't forgiven Miranda-not by a long shot-but she still aches for the woman. Andrea wants to scream. It's not fair-Miranda is the one that trampled all over her heart. She broke the trust between them, and yet Andrea, who is tired and heartbroken, is the one left still yearning. Tears begin to formulate again, and she furiously blinks them back, glad she wore waterproof mascara. Mr. Greenberg asks her a question, and by some small miracle, she is able to answer it thoughtfully and precisely. Andrea sighs quietly. She knows she will never be an equal to Miranda-she will never mean anything to the powerful woman, and that thought makes her heart shatter. Politely excusing herself, she ignores the worried look on her boyfriend's face and stumbles towards the yacht's bathroom. Once inside, she lets the tears flow. _It's not fair._ She doesn't know how long she stands there, silently shaking with tears streaming down her cheeks, but she thanks whomever is listening that nobody walks in on her. There's a lock, but she hadn't bothered with it, too consumed in her grief. Looking up in the mirror, she gasps at the sight of herself. The black mascara and eyeliner she had applied so carefully earlier was now a mess around her brown eyes, giving her the raccoon look. She looks pathetic. Andrea almost bursts into tears again before she reins it in._ Get a grip. You're a fully grown woman. _She pulls some tissues out of the box on the counter, and mops at the sorry mess.

The door swings open and Miranda walks in. Her face is withdrawn, obviously unprotected without her ice mask. She walks over to Andy, who stands frozen with a wad of blackened kleenex in her hand. Miranda reaches out and hesitates. Then, making up her mind, she gently pries the tissues out of Andrea's hand and starts to softly dab at her eyes.

"I saw you rush in here," Miranda says, her voice rough. "I paced outside the door for ten minutes debating whether or not to come in. I was a coward."

Andy looks at her in amazement.

"Your sobs broke me," Miranda's hand stills. "I couldn't leave you. The sound tore through me Andr-"

"Stop," Andy says harshly in a broken, but strong voice. "Don't say my name."

Miranda drops the tissue and gently cups Andrea's smooth cheek. Brown eyes fill with more tears and despite herself, she nuzzles into the hand. Miranda's own eyes mist over and with trembling fingers, she raises her other hand to cup Andrea's other cheek. Staring into her eyes, Miranda says softly, "I'm so sorry Andrèa."

The dams break. Andrea starts sobbing again, and this time, Miranda is there to catch her. Andrea's slightly taller than Miranda, but it doesn't make the embrace awkward. Andy just tucks her face into Miranda's neck and inhales the Joy Jean Patou scent, all the while trying to calm her breathing. Her tears slide down the Editor's neck, and she can feel hot tears that are not her own sliding down her forehead. Strong arms are there to cradle her, and Andrea can feel the message Miranda is trying to send. _I'm sorry. Please don't leave me. I'm so sorry. _After another long bout of crying, Andrea finally looks up. Miranda's eyes are puffy and red, and Andrea can feel the sorrow and hurt radiating off the other woman.

"I'm still angry with you," Andrea says. "You hurt me in the worst way possible." She pulls away and pain flashes across Miranda's face.

"If I could undo that I hurt you, I would anything for us to make it through," Miranda says sadly, gazing into Andrea's eyes. "I'm quitting Runway."

Andy gasps.

"It's taken too much away from me. What does it say about me that I chose to cheat on the love of my life to keep Runway under my firm hand?" Miranda looks away. "I'm ashamed. I feel so much guilt and regret-I will never forgive myself for hurting you. I l-love you Andrea. You are everything to me." She wraps her arms around herself and looks down.

Andrea watches her quietly. Silently weighing her options, she chooses at that moment to forgive the woman she loves. Yes Miranda had cheated on her, and made her seem that she meant nothing, but Andrea has learned that you must fight for the people you love. She must fight for her soul mate. She must forgive for them to move forward. Andrea walks over to the distraught woman and tilts her chin up so their eyes meet.

"Miranda, I forgive you," Andrea's eyes turn soft. "It's in the past. We can't take back what has happened."

Miranda's eyes fill with tears again. "Andrea, I-I-"

"I love you Miranda," Andrea leans in and brushes her lips against the ones that fit so perfectly against her own. "I'm willing to move on from this."

Miranda looks at her with round, wet eyes, and then buries her face in Andrea's neck. "You have saved me tonight Andrea. I was a blank page waiting for you."

Andrea tilts Miranda's face back up and captures thin lips with her own, marveling at how _right_ it feels. She deepens the kiss, letting her tongue come into play. Her arms wrap around Miranda's lower back and neck, supporting her and drawing strength from their embrace. They lose themselves in their kiss, and while each woman still felt a weight on their shoulders, their hearts felt lighter than they had in months.

* * *

It takes about a year for things to go back to relatively normal. Andrea had worried about telling Max that she had essentially used him for her own selfish reasons, but had quickly found out that she needn't have worried. She had caught the mogul in a compromising position with a young leggy blonde once she had sought him out on the yacht. He had tried to apologize, but Andy had long since gone. She had more important things to worry about.

Andrea's and Miranda's relationship had grown stronger with each passing day they spent in each other's presence. It had been a rocky start though, with Andrea's lack of trust, and Miranda's overbearing displays of love. Despite Andrea's forgiveness and reassurance that she wouldn't leave again, Miranda, terrified that that very thing would happen, tried to do everything in her power to show her regret and her love. It was almost oppressive, and Andrea found herself shying away. Little by little however, Miranda's fear that she would drive the brunette away again receded slowly, and Andrea had learned to open herself back up to Miranda. Andy had moved back into the townhouse after 4 months of re-dating Miranda, much to the delight of Cassidy and Caroline. Miranda, of course, was the happiest of the three of them.

Miranda had quit Runway, but stipulated that Emily be given Runway-not Jacqueline. It had been a smooth process, and the press went crazy when they learned that the fashion guru had gracefully bowed out. She never saw the French woman again, and Miranda never regretted her decision. And now, as she climbs into bed next to her sleeping lover, Miranda marvels at the beauty and the heart that her young love possesses. She slips the black box that she has been carrying around all week under her pillow, intending to surprise her in the morning with the simple yet elegant ring, and then spoons herself around Andrea. Her body immediately relaxes, and she draws the young woman in closer. She presses a kiss to Andrea's forehead and nuzzles against her neck. Their hearts stop, and then beat as one together. Forever.


End file.
